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Ayr Burners Cycling Club

HSBC National Trophy Round 2.

Saturday 27th October 2018, Irvine Beach.

Walkers Cycling Club had a dream, a dream to be hosts to the first ever National Trophy Cyclocross Race in Scotland. I am not sure how long this has been floating in dreamland but Scott Kerr And Brian McCutcheon along with the assistance of the club and many local clubs they had the mentality of “build it and they will come”!

They set about building it and we came! On February, part of the Super Quaich series. Irvine Beach a test race to give the organisers an idea how the course would run and also how all the planning and logistics would work out to host a weekend of high-level racing for all age groups.

Roll on a few months, the day of reckoning is upon them.

Veterans day at the seaside today. At 12 pm, the final bit of coursework has to be finished, as this is time for the first race of the weekend to kick off. All age groups will be racing 40 minutes today.

The Veteran 40, 50 and 60 age group of women are getting lined up in front of the start tape. It’s a strong field today, this level of racing is a step above the normal Scottish Cyclocross series. Having multiple British Champions as well as multiple Master World Champions in the relevant age groups means there is going to be a battle out there get the National Points Leader Jersey. So a pretty good level to have on the front of the grid.

Once the woman battle it out around the course, now it’s time for the V50 and V60 males to race. The same as above British Champions and National Points leader at the front of the grid and another Master World Champion in the V60 race starting a minute after them.

Watching the two races it’s quite clear that it’s going to be a fast day between the tape. The course is dry and there is plenty of grip on the off-camber sections. The sand traps are capturing a few front wheels and toppling riders out of their saddles. Looks like I will be running them again this year.

My times up, time for me to get to the start area. We are gathered into two lines and wait for our name to be called, I know that I’m going to be last called, that feeling of being picked for the school football team crops up (that kid that smells of pee and me are left to see who is least popular of the shite footballers).

Roll onto the second last row and wait for the countdown. (Still, don’t know what the fuck I’m doing racing in the National Trophy Race! When I went to sign up there were only about 18 riders showing. These 18 would absolutely smash me at racing and I knew I’d get lapped, maybe several times. But In my head, I had it that if somehow I finished I would be 19th! My best result in a race for a while) That’s how I ended up on the start line.

It’s not just me and the 18 riders that I dreamt of! It’s me and 74 other riders. Glad to see that more riders stepped up to the line and made it a larger field and show what we kind of racing we can put on in the Scottish Cyclocross Series.

A short blast of the whistle gets the race underway, Wayne Barr is on my right and shoots off like a rocket to get to where he should have been starting, middle of the pack! I jump on his wheel and try and keep pace with him as we pass the pits. I soon run out of gear as we head for the first incline taking us along to the first sand pit. I lose positions to the guys behind, they carry more speed with their gearing and overtake before we enter the sand pit. Now at the back of the bunch!

The first sandpit its a bit of a tangle ahead, off the bike and run through some gaps making up a couple of places. Back on the bike and ride along the long off-camber section, face the bottom of a long climb, a few flat spots helps keep the burn off the legs as you ride up to the highest point of the course.

Still near the rear of the bunch as the front wheel points the down towards the second deeper sand pit. Loved this part of the course as free speed is always welcome. Dismount as I arrive at the sand, start to run but my legs aren’t keeping up with my brain and I somehow stub my foot and I take a trip down to inspect the sand.

Kevin Pugh’s advice from the sideline “get on your feet Bryan” is taken and I get out of the sand and head towards the commentary van and finish line. Two Hurdles later and its time to hit the hills. A few uphill zigzags and a few steep climbs (second one I have to run as it’s to steep for my gear) has you speeding downhill and along to the pits where it all started.

Two laps in and my legs are hurting. (big time regret running to work the day before) Starting to feel like I am way out my depth and will probably have to climb off my bike and give in as this is way to fast for me.

Eventually, the leaders catch on my third lap, I come over the hurdles and give them room to fly past. Now I have only two laps remaining.

A caffeine gum gives me a little boost as I get stuck in and try to finish this race.

No more dramas in both sand pits. I ride the first one each lap slower and slower but I manage it, and the second one I run each time managing not to trip over my own feet and make a spectacle for the good amount of support at the sand pits.

Onto my last lap. I seem to have a big gap from the person chasing me, as long as I don’t do anything stupid only people going past will be riders lapping me. I have a clean last lap and even pick up my pace, try and surf the fast guy’s wheels as the breeze past, but I don’t have the legs to sit on for long.

Roll over the finish line to a waving chequered flag, before the race I really did think I would have been pulled off as being to slow. To see that flag was a good boost of moral.

I managed to race a National level race, alright I finished 69th but I finished.

Irvine is always a good course to ride, be it the old course with the Big Dipper and long narrow sand dunes to the new course with double sand pit and loads of off chambers and climbs. But the best thing is my bike came away just as clean as it arrived. Roll on 2019 and hopefully another round of National Trophy races at the seaside.

Sunday was for the Junior and Elite races, sadly I didn’t get down to witness these but from the clips and photos on Facebook, under the bright blue sky’s the racing looked fast and furious once again.

A huge well done to all involved on the planning and organising of the first and hopefully not the last time the world and national champions turn up to race in Scotland.

You Built It, And We Came!

Superb images from the sand pit by Alan Draffan, Pammie Ball and Fiona Wallace. Click here to see an amazing video by ImacImages.

Far Flung Falkirk.

7th October 2018 Callender House, Falkirk.

Falkirk has three good things going for it, The Falkirk Wheel, The Kelpies and the fantastic Callender House. In the grounds of the house, an annual event comes along that just gets bigger and better. Callender Cross!

This is my fourth trip over to Davie and Franco’s Cyclocross Playground. Storm damage to some of the old mature trees has meant there has to be some rerouting of the course, which makes this year’s course a little different from the previous three.

The first race I catch is the woman’s. The race kicks off and they speed away along the course. I wander along and take in some of the new changes. The major changes are two new off camber slopes to ride down and a new super steep run-up to contend with halfway through the lap.

There’s a huge field of racers in the woman’s 40-minute race and its good to see them race once again in their own category. Battles are fought hard from the front all the way to the back of the pack, and a wide range of smiles to grimaces for the camera tells a story of how the new challenges on the course are shaping every rider’s experience in this race.

The Old Guard and Young Guns are up next. As soon as the V50 get underway the rain starts to drop down that little bit harder. So I take this opportunity to ride about and try and keep warm. Once they have finished making the place all muddy its time for the V40 riders to congregate at the start line.

The outer layers are discarded into the bushes, we get the grided riders sorted and the rain comes down a bit harder as we fill in spaces behind the fast bikes.

Colin Chisholm turns his back and in the next 30 seconds, the whistle will indicate the start of the race getting us veterans underway on Callender park 2018.

Breeeeeeep! Push off and slowly we begin to move.

I start on the right side of the course, the bright Orange top of Anthony Robinson is in my sights (I know he’s been training more than I so need to keep him as my target man). I hope to keep him there for a few laps and not let him creep too far out in front.

No major incidents during the fast and furious start as 105 riders jostle for space. We head up to one of the new parts of the course, have to run the new downward off-camber sections due to the volume of riders as the turn creates a bottleneck and the race comes to a grinding halt. Still quite bunched together all the way around the first lap but I don’t have any silly mistakes on lap one, so still roughly around the same position as when I started.

I ride the two new decent’s on the second lap as we start to thin out. I ride the middle ruts each time I am descending but it’s not the prettiest of downhill riding you will see, as I expected to hit the dirt each and every time I come down. And on the second lap, I did come off! The marshal was busy clearing barrier tape that a rider snagged on their way down. I take my eye off my line to see what he was trying to point out, this loss in concentration ended with my front wheel washing out and me sliding along on my knees. Once back in the saddle, I settle into a good pace and lap two is now complete.

From the start of lap three to the last lap, I have a great race! Gareth Edwards from Edinburgh Road Club was my race partner for the next three laps.

We trade places all over the course, me scaling the run-up and catching him up just as we crest the top, to him overtaking as we ride up to the three stairs. Halfway through the 4th lap, I thought I was done as he rode away from me and created a decent gap. But ever so slowly I clawed back to his rear wheel and we traded places once again.

On the last lap, I thought I had the upper hand as we ride along to the run-up (crawl up) I was in front, this is where I could possibly gain some time and snap the elastic holding us together. I ride the downhill switchbacks (probably my best time of doing these in the race) at the bottom of the hill I tuck in low as I picked up speed and ride past the pits.

After the pits, I ride onto the small climb for the last time. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! The heavy breaths of Gareth as he rides past, not only that he had someone on his tail as well! Have to turn the pedals that little bit harder and try and get on their wheels. Turn left and point the bike down the off camber decent trying to close the small gap they have on me. No tumbles from me or them and I hit the tarmac and get my head down, try to get my sprint on as I see the timing van come into view.

Gareth finishes 6 seconds ahead and takes 68th, David Lewis sneaks in and takes 69th 2 seconds ahead of me and I finish in 48:57 minutes in 70th place.

Sometimes cross races can get lonely at the back as you tick down the laps and time, but fighting it out lap after lap, even for 68th place is an amazing buzz.

The target has changed colour from Orange to Red! Red of Edinburgh and Gareth Edwards.

While the Open race battle the course, I head along and battle to get warm and jet hose the bike clean and prepare for the journey back home with a hot coffee from McDonald’s that washed down the post-race cheeseburger. A proper race feed!

Bute Cross, Rothesay.

Saturday 15.9.18

The first race of the season for me, the lone Two Wheel Army rider again. Clare and Gary have chucked racing for more better things in life. Eating cakes and munching Pizza I think.

Dust off the Cross bike on Friday night, the kit bag is sorted now, All I have to do on Saturday is just bundle my loyal support crew into the car (until they are old enough to stay themselves, they get dragged to the races haha) and drive to Wemyss Bay and board the ferry to Rothesay (Isle of Bute).

As I stand to wait to embark the boat, some familiar and ugly mugs who turn up at Scottish parks on damp cold weekends from September to February start to appear in the queue. It’s great to be back! The cars soon fill the ferry deck, now the two wheels are allowed on board and store our bikes on the great new bike racks that the crew pull out the cupboard.

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My boys head to the upper deck to go shark spotting on the short crossing to Bute. Surprisingly we don’t see any, but we did spot a mahoosive jellyfish (I thought it was a poly bag at first). Twenty minutes later we pull alongside the harbour. The Ferry soon empties of vehicles and bikes. A short wander past the Castle and up to the Leisure centre to sign on and get my first race number of the season. Sort my pins out and I take in a quick lap before the V60, V50, Woman and Junior get called up to the start line and it’s not long until they are let loose an start their race season.

That time has come! The nerves, excitement, fear all start to rumble about your head and the pit of your stomach as 4 pm approaches, It’s time to ride to the start line.

As I stepped up in age group (or down don’t know how it goes) I recognise a few faces but not as many as normal in the open race. I know one face, bloody Davie Lines. (though I would escape being lapped by him for a season, haha) Just as the faster riders are sorted and us not so special ones fall in behind, low and behold the wet stuff from the sky comes down to christen us and the first race of the season. Feeling sorry for our old bones the commissars will let us go in the next 30 seconds.

Brrrrrreeeep goes the whistle and season 18/19 is a go!

Foot clipped in and power-down on the pedal, my unfit body starts the sprint up to the commentary box and to the voice of Morven Brown rocking the mic and shouting us through the timing/finishing line. I am doing well just now, not the last rider and my bike still holding together, result!

Take the first corner on the inside and with a dab of the foot, I’m through along with the other 56 riders all still on the bikes. Another long sprint past the football game on our right we ride down to where we have just started. The long fast straight soon has us racers strung out as we cross the gravel and push round to the metal bridge.

A bottleneck soon appears here as we slow to ride over the slippy metal surface. The speed soon kicks back up as we ride out onto the field and take on the S bends. Struggle up the small incline with the red ash tennis courts on my left. Then come to my nemesis, the slow corners of a chicane (always think I am going to wash out and ride way to slow).

The run-up is next, I try to ride as much as possible but come to halt a third of the way up. Dismount/fall off and a peddle to the shin soon gets me moving again. (will be running it from now on). On top of the run-up is a great wooded trail along to the sharp hairpin bend and shoot down the slope trying not to get myself tangled in the fence at the bottom (as I nearly do a few laps in).

Now I am on the hard part of the course for me, soft grass! Need to ride this part mostly out of the saddle to keep my speed up, in doing so it’s killing my legs and lower back. Some gravel paths come next, I ride past the big tree covering my fan club as they hide from the rain, and now head up to the start line to complete lap one.

Things go quite consistent from here to the finish 6 laps later. I consistently go backwards in placings, consistently get slower going up the run/walk up, and the pain in my lower back consistently lets me know its needing oiled or something.

After a lot of determination to keep riding the bike with its bar tape peeling off along with the very low front brake hood angle. (that made my hand slide off going downhill towards that fence every lap) I happily managed to cross the line after 47 minutes of a 40-minute race in 47th place.

A few changes have been made since my last race here two years ago. I quite liked doing the neutralised ride up from the Castle, then the mad dash over the stone carpark as a start. The turns on the red ash tennis courts were removed, but I don’t mind not having slower turns to do. Another missing part was after struggling up the run-up we went down into the woods, a thin natural trail was great along with the fallen logs that had to be jumped. Don’t get me wrong the course still had its challenges and was a great addition to the series races.

After reflecting on my first race back, I now know, there will be some great battles at the back of the bunch this season with the HTCC crew (happy trail cross collective) as were all fat and slow now, not just them.

See you all at the next one, Callender Park 7.10.18

Thanks to the Organiser Stewart and his band of helpers from the Bike Shed. Rothesay’s Weekend Of Cycling has something for everyone, so next year get yourself over.

Thanks to Richard Croasdale for the capturing and letting me have use of images at the run-up.

Super Quaich, The Third Round.

Roukenglen Park, 18.2.18.

Albannach and the Unicorn tamer Jim Cameron are the hosts of the last Super Quaich party.

Roulenglen Park isn’t my best course, but I always look forward to it as my Mum and Dad come and join the ranks of the Two Wheel Army support crew. (also help with Victoria getting the kids out from the trees) This year’s race is a bit later on in the race calendar so no snow this year but there is still a nip in the air.

Clare is racing in the B race today, the crew and I turn up just as the race has begun. Kevin Pugh and Craig Lewis Hamilton are at the font of the race as they come through the trees and into the main support bowl. RGCX has an excellent location for spectating, 95% of the course is watchable from the sign on the tent. (this year the burger van is on hand to feed the faces of all the spectators)

Clare is slogging through lap after lap for the hour’s race. A head full of determination of not getting a DNF on her last Cyclocross race of the season. Her grit and fighting spirit gets her around the course and rolls over the finish line celebrating that she is the last rider home. Well, news for you CC, you didn’t come last, and you beat the course. That’s always the right way to end the race season.

My turn to race approaches, I say my goodbyes, and I am wished good luck as I ride down to the start shoot. I find myself late to the party, squeeze past the bunch and nestle in the right on top of a sand pit. Great, more sand! I thought I had seen enough at Irvine. Chat away to Owen Philipson, then four by four we get moved out the sand and up behind the 20 gridded riders. While chatting away we don’t hear the briefing, and before we know it, the front has burst apart, and the race is on. It takes a moment to hear the Hoot Hoot Hoot of the starting horns, but they are going off, now It’s my turn to race.

Sprint up the slog of the tarmac hill, suck in lungfuls of oxygen at the top. Navigate the muddy lines and other racers in this condensed area. Come through the trees and out to the open grass, take a quick left and ride along the treeline and then a right turn has you coming back on yourself. The bike soon dips down, taking in the fastest part of the course, a quick descent heading past the spectator bowl for the first time. Drive up the incline with the rear wheel slipping and sliding all the way and turn right and into the woods. A narrow path keeps us all close and fighting for space. Thanks to those pesky B racers they have churned up the grass and made it sticky and slippy slog. I slowly grind my way through the first section, and as I get into the next HTCC old guard Julian passes by, he forces me off track with a close pass, and I’m leaving patches of skin from my leg in the thick bramble bushes.

I like riding the last section of the woods, I always seem to ride this part quite fast, and I gain some place as we exit the woods and ride past the pits. My tyres roll over the timing line for the first time as we race down and around to the first run-up. It’s a short, sharp climb. My feet skid and slide as I run the mud/grassy incline. Dig my feet in a little deeper, and I get to the top of the hill, again taking a few places as I remount the bike and the TWA crew shout me on.

Run the next half of a hill as some riders go past still in the saddle, (why is it called a saddle when its attached to a seat post?) then ride along to the hurdles. Were still bunched up as we turn and dismount for the double magenta barriers. A lot of riders remount and ride along to the new downhill section. Me on the other hand, I keep running until I reach the brow of the hill, back on the bike and freewheel to the bottom of the hill. Some tremendous sweeping switchbacks line you up for the second longer grassy climb. I usually have to dismount and run this hill, but do you know what, I’m going to give it a bash and try to ride this sucker! And I do! I struggle to the top by some zig-zag riding and seeking out grip, also lots of sheer stubbornness helps at this point. The growing crowd also helps with tones of encouragement to all riders tackling the hill.

Back in the saddle (seat) and ride through the mud soup, that takes you into the trees once again. This links you back up with the tarmac start shoot, I have to walk/run the last of the bog as by peddling I don’t seem to be getting anywhere fast. Get to the tarmac and back to riding a bike race in a bike race. It’s being to string out and riding the top wood section I can pick a decent line with some free space ahead. I am gaining on a small group just a few seconds out in front. Deep down I know I won’t be able to hold on to the group as this course isn’t my fastest to get around.

Eventually lap after lap I run out of gas, I hear two laps to go as I come round to the timing van. (great commentary by @mikefixerpayne) Which probably means one and a half for me as I’m sure David Duggan will catch me again. I manage to ride the big hill a few more times but slowing every time I complete it. The last two times I manage 3/4 of the way up. I don’t have any lying down in the mud today, always a good race when that happens but I do regret wearing gloves and arm warmers.

Man got too hot! Halfway around I have stop and strip my arm warmers down to my wrists to cool down. Then at the spectator’s bowl, I pull up to remove my gloves and warmers altogether. I hate being too hot! It distracts me, I think about it too much instead of concentrating on racing. Also, I get a bit nauseous if I am too hot. I lose a tone of time to the riders in front of me by pissing about, but at least I feel some much-needed fresh air.

David does catch me again, just as we entered the woods behind the pits. I now know my race will soon be over as David is riding along to get the checkered flag and the win. I have someone in my sights, a Johnston Wheeler is slowing, this spurs my legs on and the speed is up as we come through the last section of woods. At the end of the woods and entry into the pit area, he slips and goes down. I dig in and pass him on the inside. Kept the power going, ride around the bend and into the last corner. A quick glance over my shoulder and I see I have some space on riders at my back, let the bike glide over the line in 64th spot and to complete RGCX and my Cyclocross season.

Huge thanks to all the Unicorn helpers and event organisers, RGCX is always special.

Thanks again to Michael Martin again some incredible pictures and also to Graeme Cross for some classic black and white images.

Super Quaich Round 2.

Irvine Beach, 11.2.18.

The car is packed and ready to hit the beach today. Irvine is situated on the West Coast of Scotland, yeah the windy part of the world with multi-weather fronts per day.

We arrive at the carpark with a small dusting of snow covering the grass, the youth riders have just fought through some snowfall during their 15 minutes of racing. The course is open for the B race to have a warm up and see what’s on the menu today.

Sandwiches with camber, cucamber are today’s offering from Walkers Cycling. This is a new course for the Super Quaich race, and it’s a tester before next years National Trophy round. Two sand pits and a multitude of off camber riding, throw in some hills for good measure and you have a tough course served up. Good news is it’s not too soft underfoot due to the fast draining sandy soil.

As the B race gets under way, they race off at a frantic speed on the way to the first sand pit. We watch and learn as the riders bite into the sand(witch) and see what lines are best to avoid/ride. First section is pretty rideable as long as you have some wiggle room, the second one after the downhill descent is rideable, again if you pick the right line! Kevin Pugh is back racing his cross bike, he comes into the sand in third place. Selects the wrong rut,comes to a hault and is off running with sand between his toes and bike held high.

As the B race battle on in the winter sun, we head for sign on and then go sort our race numbers out. Drop the pit bike off and grab a few pictures while making my way back to the warmth of the car as the cold is creeping in.

I mentioned the changeable weather, didn’t I! A snowstorm rolls in as me and G roll away from the car towards the racing tape. It’s brutal, we try and take in a quick lap of the course with the snow stinging your face no matter the direction of travel. My chin is frozen with the bite of the sharp arctic blast. Gary is nearly in tears as he can’t speak and lost all feeling in his pinky fingers. Then we find out the race is being held back for 20 mins.

What! Twenty more minutes riding about in this weather, makes me understand how the athletes in Pyeongchang are dealing with lycra, outdoor sports and cold temperatures. Just as quickly as the snow came on, its soon blow past leaving a dark steel sky, and we soon got shouted forward to the starting area.

I get a decent spot in the starting bunch, Discard my jacket and trousers but keep the sunglasses. (Ever the optimist) Gary is about five people in front of me, don’t think he will be that close come the end of this race. The countdown begins as we wait for the whistle.

Breeeeep we are on and racing at the new Irvine Beach Park.

We have a good starting area, an extensive flat grassland soon gets the 87 riders up to racing speed and the dash to the front commences without too much fighting. A right turn has you lining up for the first bottleneck, a small incline with a left turn slowed the riders in front down. I stick wide right and take the long road around the corner as the inside riders tiptoe around the bend.

A few more bends are ridden then we come to the first of the sand pits. I’m still on the right-hand side of the course, and glad I stuck with that. Some riders get into a tangle on the left and stop the race on that side dead in its tracks. A few of us on the right manage to sneak past they play in the sandbox.

A short blast uphill then a sharp left at the top takes you on to the first of many camber section for today. We snake our way around the lower slopes of the hill at the far side of the pond. I’m still making decent progress in the race. As we come to the 90° right turn, I switch from riding to running.

I say running it’s more jogging and sliding gradually to the bottom of the camber and along the scrim and barrier tape. Without toe studs, I’m like a dog on lino in these parts. Can’t get grip, so I get back on the bike and see if that’s any better. Manage to ride slowly to the uphill run. And from there is more camber and running/slipping until you reach the highest point of the course, turn 180° right and line yourself up for a big drop down and along to sandpit number two.

I practised riding this sandpit once, I fell right over the bars, so I decided to run it every lap, saving the embarrassment of me going face first into the sand. Swing off the bike and run the sand holding my bike like a huge handbag. A flying remount and I have managed to take a few places coming through the sand.

I’m in a group of five as we ride past the pits and over the line. I am just going to hang with this group and see if I can last the pace of the A race. Tackle the double hurdles, and now the group ride up to the uphill yeah uphill switchbacks. I haven’t got the gears to ride this, I opt for swinging off and run my way up the hill. Remount and I’m soon riding back down the hill, I lock the rear wheel, this sends me into a skid and right out the tape! Come to a stop and get back in between the tape, now to chase back into the group as they ride past the hurdles and on to another uphill section that looms overhead.

As said, I’m optimistic. Good job I kept the sunglasses on, as the afternoon light is soon cast over the course and brightens my mood for a short period in the race. Then the hill run kicks me back to reality, and I’m soon suffering once again.

Us bitches blaze on past the skate park, past the pits on the way to the sand pit. Then back onto the never-ending off-camber section.

A few more times around the course, my little group soon crumbles, a few push on, and a few fall back. I am now riding solo again. Head along to the first sand pit and for the last time, and I see Gary for the first time since the start line. He just comes through the second sand trap and is heading for the finish line. We give each other a shout and cheer, and roughly at the same time that changeable weather kicks back in.

The snowstorm returns, softly at the start but by the time I have reached the high point with the chambers behind me, the wind picks up and the snowflakes increase. I blast down the hill for the last time, run the sand pit and hop back on the bike. A 30mph headwind with snow in the face is greeting me, I try and push the cranks round, and round, slowly I gain some speed to get me out of the worst of the wind.

I’m riding past the pits and the weather is killing me. As I hit the tarmac, I find Andy Ingles on my tail. Another sprint finish is on the cards. Both of us get out the saddle, and the line is coming up fast, Andy is creaking ahead, I am out of gear and spinning at my fastest. He soon pulls away and takes the line and 43rd spot.

44th from 87 riders isn’t to bad a result from me. Last year I would have been down at 60s-70s so an improvement. Imagine if I stopped eating shite and pushed my training. I might actually be top 20-30.

Gary finished in 23rd spot and became my pit bitch for finishing ahead of me, although he done well by getting my pit bike and jacket. But forgot the trousers with the car key. Bloody useless these young ones.

That’s Garys Cross season over, and he’s been a natural at the racing game, some excellent results and a lot of experience gained for 18/19 season kicking off at the tail end of the year.

Clare and I have one more race, RGCX is our last bike race. Then we swap tyres for trainers and take on the hill running races. With our first being the Hill Billy Trail Race. Hosted by CX racer Brian Yates.

Thanks to Michael Martin, Bill Kennedy and George Stewart for letting me use the images from the race.

Huge thanks to all the Walkers and their cycling team, thanks to the marshals who braved the cold and wind to let the racing go ahead. This will be a great National Trophy Round looking forward to the beach again in October.

4 February 2018 Cyclocross Race.

The World Champs? Nope, it’s M&G’s Cyclocross Playpark.

Half the Scottish Cyclocross Population are eating Frites & Mayo
in Valkenburg, cheering on the riders at the pinnacle of the Cyclocross Calander, Team Two Wheel Army head for Rolls & Sausage at Strathclyde Park. Today wraps up the Lappiere Scottish Cyclocross Series.

Clare is first rider up in the trio of races that the army span today. Her race has been held back while the commissars and organisers work out some minor course tweaks. We manage to lend our support as Clare rides over the line and onto her 2nd lap. We soon greet her as she grinds up the bridge climb and gets back on with riding the fast wood section of the course. She completed three laps of the 2.8km course and accomplishes her mission and finishes the race in 32nd spot.

I’m next to race. My V40 virginity is going to be ripped away from me as I roll up to the start line for the 40-minute long race.

With two seasons of riding the open race, I have become accustomed to seeing my race nemesis on the start grid. This gives me a starting target but I usually scan ahead at the front riders, assessing who I can pick out as a target, gauging if I’m making improvements in my racing at the end of the race. Rolling up to the V40 I kinda felt like the new guy again. Even though I do know a few faces around me.

As the race brief is going down, the marshall’s radio crackles, a V50 rider has been posted missing. (Maybe the deer has got him!)

After a being held while, we are told to watch out as there might be a rider on the course, and we will be off in the next 30 seconds. (does anyone else hum the countdown theme in there head at this point)

Breeeep we are off, and off to a soggy start. The soft grass is being ripped up with the 97 sets of wheels digging in and driving the riders forward and up to full speed. I am grateful I oppted for glasses now, they keep the worst of the mud out my eyes in the first few frantic seconds. I try to stick wide right as we come down to the carpark, but a couple of ditches slow me down, finally ride off the soft stuff with a left turn, ride behind the Mylaps timing van and onto the foot of the Big Red climb. Power down on the cranks and weave in and out of the slowing riders that are spinning in the top of their cassette. Eventually get to the top of the red ash, but instead of jumping off and running through the quagmire, I continue to slowly pedal through the ever thicking mud. Eventually, I come to my senses and jump off and push the bike towards some solid ground.

Shoot down towards the Bridge, I can’t see a thing through the dirty glasses as we ride in a bunch towards the run-up. Dismount the bike and time to charge up the side of the bridge wall. My spare shoes don’t have the studs, so at this point, I’m panicking about grip. I manage to use some well-placed boulders to assist with the climb. (An excellent organiser has even marked them out for me with some bright white paint!)

The fast part of the course comes next. The speed increases as we flow along the gravel paths and through the woods at the back of the theme park. The low sun and a pack of riders make it difficult to see the ruts and racing line. Ride over the bridge and down through the soft leaf litter weaving through the trees. A quick flick of the bike through the taped off chicane has you out onto the carpark and breathing in lungfuls of salt and vinegar from the chips at the burger van.

Shoot past the pits chasing a few riders as we head for the timing van and the grass on the far side of the course. Ditch my glasses to the fan club as I slowly ride past as fellow single speeder Scott McKendrick seeks past. We hit a bump in the track, and as we turn 180° to ride back over the bump, there is a traffic jam. I head left and shout at Scott to get his fat arse out the way. (I’ll have to add that to the apology Facebook thread)

The next grass section looks a bit wet and sticky. I line the bike up, dismount and start off running at a pretty fast pace. Two bends in and I am taking places. Three curves in and I’m breathing out my hoop but still taking places, back into the saddle and round the back of timing van again and Big Red is in my sight once again.

Big Red was ridden two more times, and I run the top swamp section each time, learning from my first lap mistake. As I came into the pits to tackle Big Red the fourth time I swap bikes as the brakes on the cross bike have decided to stop working. Using my foot as an anchor coming down to the bridge and through the bomb hole at the trees is the only way to ditch some speed.

My MTB was passed on by Clare, and I was soon riding up the red gravel. Every time I tried to push the power down the chain skipped about and I lose momentum. Gary used the bike at Doonbank for the last lap, and he said the same. A dead cassette is his diagnostics. I struggle on the fourth lap with speed up any hill and gears are all over the place, as I come past the pits on the last lap, I get back on the Cross bike. I would rather have no brakes than no gears. Just as well, the MTB picks up a rear puncture as I come into the carpark before the pits.

Last time up Big Red and I’m struggling. Glad to get to the top as that’s the hard part of the course taken care of. As I come through the woods, I see a funny shape in the mud at the dip in the trees. It’s all flattened and smooth! As I round the bend, I understand why. A Nightingale has fallen. He’s getting back onto his bike and covered with a nice layer of mud.

I push my speed up the small drag that takes you along and over the bridge. Ride down to the woods and remember my brakes are non-existent, take it easy riding the bomb hole, turn left to ride down and through the chicane. I am carrying too much speed as I go through the first of the tapes, I can’t stop! My foots out and dragging on the ground, brake levers are at the max, yet I’m still gliding forward. Then BANG! I soon stop as I hit the tarmac. My rear wheel slipped out and took me down.

I’m on the floor, things are sore. I hear the Nightingale close in, I right my bike and bang the lever level again and try to ride off. My right hand has gone numb with the hit to my elbow, I’m bent over as the Nightingale swoops past. I hear Victoria, my boys and Clare shout me on, I suck it up and chase the rider down. I’m gaining as the line rapidly approaches, before I know it I’m flinging the bike forward like Chris Hoy in a track sprint. I take 37th place by a Vulgar sprint as Jammy described.

Last on today’s race card is Gary. He will have to suffer an hour of racing the course and probably seven times around the course. They get underway about an hour behind schedule, Gary goes past us in the top half of the field he is off to a good start. The late start sends quite a lot of the crowd home, and the car park is alive with the sound of power washers.

Gary seems to be in the top 15 on lap three and is keeping pace with riders just ahead. The race is being strung out with the fast pace of David Duggan riding at the front. As the light slowly fades me and the boys head to the bridge and cheer Gary on his last accent along the wall. He scoots through the woods knowing he’s not that far from the finishing line. His seventh and last time over the line gives him a 16th place.

Not a bad days racing for the team. All three riders home and bikes intact (except in I have three punctures by the time I get back home, two slow punctures but all three due to thorns)

Thanks to Pamela La’Craig & Pete Bentley for the use of some images. thanks to M&G and EK Cycling Club for hosting today’s race.

Super Quaich 2018.

28.1.18 Razelle Park, Ayr.

Super Quaich, the first batch has been organised by Christopher JC and JP Baxter their band of Ayr Burners. Clare and I have been drawn out in today’s B race. Gary will be racing an hour after us in with the A race chasing the Pros.

It’s a proud moment for me seeing my two teammates roll up to race altogether, making it a six-wheel army. Just have to get the kit sorted and pay the fees to British Cycling again and become Team Two Wheel Army for realsies. (hopefully, kit will be ready for Sunday)

A couple of the kids trundle past racing for the orange and black checkered flag as Gary and I dodge our way over the puddles and through the mud heading to sign on. Brown envelop to match the brown shoes is secured, time to walk the course and let Gary see what he’s signed up for. (No Ice Cream and deck chairs with this visit to Ayr G Dog)

The trio of us wanders through to the start area, ditch the pit bike then ditch the body waste at the other pits, then me and CC head for the growing bunch of riders assembling for the B race. It’s good to see lots familiar faces and join in with the nervous/excited chatter waiting for the call to grid up. The Commissioner and Jammy battle it out in trying to talk over each other. Jammy wins as he has the mic and PA power. Eventually, we get the brief and in 30 seconds we will be racing.

I secured a spot on the second row, four riders are between me and the start line. (Still, reminisce about being called to the front row of the grid at Dig In The Dock) Clare is just a few rows back and super eager to defeat Rozelle Park in 2018.

Brrrreeeeeep the whistle blows and we are off.

Clip in and time to power down the centre of the course. Sprinting down the start shoot we send the puddles flying into the air, a rather large puddle is directly in front of me, have to ride through it as I am boxed in with riders each side of me. Bang! My rear tyre takes a beating, it’s got to have punctured with that impact. The bouncing of the rim on the hard surface isn’t a great sign. Though I have luck on my side for now. Seems my tyre is just somewhat soft with the couple of baby farts of air I put into my tube.

We ride off the hardpack onto the grass for the first time, I am still near the front. But due to my limited top end speed on the single speed, I lose a few position in the sprint. Point the bike downhill and ride through swampageddon and between the gap in the hedge. Through the gate, we turn left and are sandwiched between the hedgerows. A long grass/mud hill is the view, I manage to stay on the bike and ride halfway, then it became time to jump off and join in on running to the top.

Still only a fist full of people in front of me as get to the top of the hill and disappear into the woods. Try and calm down now, the first few minutes are always chaos and burning myself out trying to catch the lead riders is a possibility. Another uphill run soon comes into vision, jump off the bike and dig the toes in and run past the pits. Onto some firmer ground which takes us down and round to tackle the triple stair threat. I can see I am closing in on Gary Currie from Ayr Burners. He’s riding about 4th, I am back to my starting position.

Ride back into the woods after riding a nice grassy bend, as I ride up the muddy knoll I have the orange jersey of Currie in my sights. Slip and slide around the curves trying to find some grip. Then a slow slog through the mud to the double barriers. I have a crazy idea of bunny hoping these barriers, they aren’t too high off the dirt making them very tempting to hop over. I bin that stupid idea, and I stick to getting off the bike and running over them. As I turn for the timing van and finish line, I catch Gary and now surf his rear wheel.

In doing so, I earn a face full mud. I had just discarded my glasses to HTCC massive at the hurdles so I couldn’t see a bloody thing. I pop out from Gary’s wheel and ride beside him, blinking out the mud and grit as we cross the line. I have the inside track into the approaching left bend so move up a place as we race under the trees on the fastest section of the course.

I’m third place as we come to the first corner and back down to the swampland. Third bloody place! What’s happening here, I think to myself. I ride through the hedge and try to ride as much of hedgerow slope as I can. (I know Gary runs this part of the course so I try and gain a bit of ground by riding) It’s not long before I’m off and running and I didn’t gain much distacne on the Currie.

As we ride past the pits, Gary’s getting a lot of encouragement from his teammates (Rabbie Burners). “Come On Garrrrry” “Keep Chasing Gary” “Come On Gary“. Sorry to the young readers and spectators, but I blurt out “Fuck Of Gary” as he’s stuck to me like smelly fart and can’t escape from him.

As we ride this year’s new addition, a small section of singletrack, with a dash of deep puddles, rider number two is struggling with his gears. We overtake him as we hit the mud soup. Me and my shadow are now in second and third place as we race towards the hurdles.

What’s happened to me, 2nd place! It’s only lap two and still have 45 minutes of racing to go. Time to put the podium dreams to the back of my mind.

The shadow is still tracking me, I seem to distance him on the second half of the course but on the first half, he keeps on pulling me back. With his presence, I start to crumble under the pressure. Mistakes are creeping in and these result in some stupid falls making be lose valuble time. Number four rider soon joins us in the battle for 2nd place. He takes full advantage of us two scrapping it out and before we know it he is pulling into the second spot and getting a gap on us.

Thoughts return to the battle at hand, fight Currie off! If I can get to the last lap and Gary is just ahead of me I know, there is a good chance I can take his position as I am riding the last half faster on each lap. We take the bell as we cross the line. I look behind and I have distanced him, now I am actually gaining on the second spot. I’m spurred on to try and make the catch.

On the ride down to Swampageddon for the last time, I make a huge mistake. I am pushing it to the edge trying to give me a chance to catch rider number two. I take a massive fall as I pass a lapped rider. Over cook it on the corner before the descent and my front wheel slips out shipping me off the bike face first onto the grass. Normally when you fall your feet come out your pedals. Not this time. My right foot was stuck, and stuck fast!

Full panic mode sets in, I can feel the shadow closing in on me while I roll about the mud. Eventually, my shoe gets out the death grip just as Gary rides past. I right my bike and run after him like a loonball. I manage to get past once more as we run the hill, but soon as I start to ride the bike, I realise my cleat has been ripped from the sole of my shoe and won’t clip into the pedal. Trying to ride one gear, with one foot clipped in, uphill and through mud, at race pace was an impossible task.

I hear the deep breaths of a rider coming through as we ride under the branches of the trees, It’s not Gary this time it’s a Velo rider coming to take third spot from me. My nemesis is not to far behind him and now I am riding in fifth spot. I conceded my podium dreams with my shoe malfunction and keep riding to try and finish top five. I manage not to lose any more places as I take the flag and finish in fifth place. I came into todays race hoping for a top ten placing and beating my 2017 place of 17th. To get top five today was amazing and my best result in all of my bike racing. If I am right, I gain promotion into the A race now?.

This is what Super Quaich racing is all about, a battle from lap one to the checkered flag. Huge thanks to Gary Currie for the best race I have ever had and putting up with my wide lines and blocking tactics.

The rest of 2WA done well, Clare fought the course for four laps then her chain snapped, so the course won again, 2019 you better watch out as she’s mad and looking for vengeance.

Gary had a slog-fest after the course being turned into chocolate by the B racers destroying the grass. He came home in 32 place, so he was happy with being in the top third of the field.

Scottish Championships Knockburn Loch. 3.12.17

Beep beep beep beep, the noise of the alarm at 6am gets me up and out from the comfort of a warm bed. Drag the poor dog out into the cold, and I wake up to the morning of the Scottish Cyclocross Championships.

The early alarm is for me to get some food made then load the bikes onto the car, double check I have packed everything before I go and pick DNF Dougan up at 8am. We have just short of a three hour drive up Aberdeenshire and another new venue for me this year of Knockburn Loch.

Break some crusts of cow shite as I roll the car over the field and into a cow pat free zone in the already busy Knockburn Loch Outdoor Sports Center and it’s just clicked past 11 am. One of the earliest times I have been at the races. The regular routine is to tumble out the car, get my numbers on and then race. With this one, the long drive I wanted to get here and get blood to my legs by having a scout of the course and see a bit of racing.

The start of the week brought some snowfall to the course, turning it into a white wonderland. A rapid defrost midweek took it right back to a standard green and brown tone just in time for race day. Now the course I have in mind is going to be a mud fest with the quick thaw. I am wrong as its actually holding out really well as I take in the V50, Women and Junior race. The ground is still hard under the top inch of grass so the mud fest might not be on the cards after all.

The battle to be crowned Scottish V40 Champion has just kicked off and I now have just over an hour to get my numbers pinned on and sort myself out, then get to the start line with a little detour of a few laps of the grass velodrome.

Sixty-nine riders line up for the Scottish Open Cyclocross Championships, while the top twenty riders or so get gridded the cold wind picks up, and I am eager to get going and get a bit of heat into my bones. After a long hold, the whistle finally blasts, and the race begins. We are off to a flyer as we batter along the grass and sprint down the start shoot. From walking the course I planned to keep left of the course, I manage to execute my plan, and this gives me a good line to shoot up the small incline and then hustle along the soft ground making our way to the woods.

Still riding on the left of the course as we narrow through the entry gate into the woods. Davie Hamill is just in front of me and has the same idea in mind. Both of us dismount and get running when the speed slows, and the bottleneck grows. I gain a few places while pushing the bike, but a lousy remount kills my momentum, and the positions are soon lost. The wood section has a great flow to it, your eyes have to be peeled though as there are plenty of roots waiting to knock you to the ground. (Gary found this out later on in the race)

A fast pedal past the pits after negotiating the first slippery little hill takes you over the bridge and around to the back of the Loch. This brings you to the highest and hardest part of the course. On the first part of the climb, my bike is making some spectacular crunching and grinding noises. My freehub will need a wee looking at, it’s not engaging when I put some power through the pedals, making it skip just like last year at Bute. I lose a heap load of places while I nurse the bike up to the top. The climb isn’t over as I get to the top, we hang a right, and now a slippy grass incline is on the menu.

I use a bit of advice before the start of my race, I got told to get off and run the short muddy downhill section, and then keep running when the gradient turns uphill again. The bike stays on my shoulder as I drop down between the gorse bushes, then keep on trudging to the top of the never-ending hill. As I crest the summit of Knockburn Everest, a magnificent sight comes into my eyes. A 200 meter decent, and is a joy to behold.

It is also a joy to ride, but the mud flicking into one’s eyes isn’t so helpful with where you are pointing the front wheel as you rattle down the hill. Ride around the Loch and back over the bridge passing the busy pits. Now comes the fans favourite. The sand trap! Ride up and over a red gravel hill, try to keep the speed up and power through the sand/gravel, hoping I don’t come off and make a fool of myself in the cat litter box. Manage to get to the end of the pit without incident and ride out into the finishing field.

Ride past the finishing line and with George Stewart’s advice being spot on about the hill climb, I decide to take him up on his other words of wisdom. He told me that the S bends behind the timing van are cut up and slightly slippy under the tyre. Again that the best option is to get off and run them. Roll down the first hill the swing off and get my running legs going. Back on the bike on the last turn and ride down the long grassy decent, back to the left of the course as I ride the hill up and along into the woods once again.

The woods were a joy to ride with a bit of space in front of me as the race spread out as the laps grew. The hill climb became harder and longer with each passing lap. The 200 meter decent never changed with every lap. That was always a blast to ride down, but I know a few people didn’t enjoy it as they shipped their chain as the battered down at high speed. The cat litter tray I managed to ride every lap except for the final time, where I ground to a halt and dropped down like a dead fly. (But thankfully most of the spectators and cameras had moved around to the finishing field) The S bends I enjoyed every lap, as I kept it simple and didn’t even to entertain the thought of trying to ride them, a 99% chance that I would fail and end up in a tangled mess at the bottom of a hill, with running them it gave me a chance to gain a lot of time on riders ahead of my front wheel.

I get lapped once while I am plodding through the course and as always I am in awe of how fast the top riders can get through a lap. My bike holds out for the full race, and the weird crunching noise doesn’t return in my 6 laps of Knockburn Loch which is a huge relief. I take the finishing flag after 1hr 6mins of riding and finishing 47th place. The other two-wheel-army rider Gazza came in 35th in his first champs with is an excellent result for the novice rider.

Huge, huge thanks to Gordon Watt and his merry band of Deesiders that bring a heap of Northen Soul to Cyclocross racing in Scotland.

Huge congratulations to all the Scottish Champions and to every rider who rolls over the start line week in week out. All results are here.

All the best over in Mull with round 6 of the Lapierre Scottish Cyclocross Series and also the Santa Cross Champions on Sunday.

Plean Country Park. 26.11.17

I have wanted to write this blog for a while. A blog about a race where I turn up, finish without any incident or mechanicals then I end the hour within the top 30 riders. Well, I finally get to tell you about it.

Plean is a new course for me, I have seen the footage on YouTube, and every one of them has snow and mud involved. Today is no different. A small covering of snow has dusted the car park, and it’s a little thicker as I wander through the woods on the way to pick up my race numbers.

The course from what I have been told has been shortened due to heavy ice on one part deeming it a bit of a hazard. From the practice lap and dropping the pit bike off, I get a feel for the course and that feeling is slippy. I am confident that the soft grass and fast decents combo will be taking a few people down if it’s ridden too fast. So leaving out another hazard for us to contend with was the right call by the organisers, (Stirling Bike Club)

Head to the start line and strip off the manky waterproofs and prepare to race. Look around, there is a small number of riders at the line in today’s race. I think, even if I come dead last I will still have one of my best placings in the senior open race. I just hope the bikes hold together and no DNFs today.

Some good news for the skinny guys, we aren’t being held for too long at the start line, meaning they won’t be shivering in the cold for too long. That’s the bonus of my bigger belly, extra winter heat! The whistle blasts as soon as the griding has been sorted and the fast boys power away.

It seems I am going backwards, I run out of gear on the start and lose distance on the bunch as we descend down to the first turn. A right corner takes us up through a thick carpet of leaf litter with the bare skeletal branches keeping us in the shade overhead.

On the climb is where I claw back a few seconds, manage to get back onto the wheels of the guys in front making me feel I am back into the race. Speed along the snow, past the pits and now it’s time to pick a good line through the spacious but very soft ground taking you to the first of two fast grass downhills.

I keep right as we shoot down the hill, bang on the brakes to take the inside of the corner and away from the soft ground on the right. Rise out the seat and climb up the hill to repeat the same move over again. Keep to the right of the grass, to try and bang off the mud build up on the bumps. Brakes on and ride the tight inside line. This time two barriers have to be negotiated before I ride uphill once more. None of this bunny hopping malarkey from me. So off the bike and run over the two small barriers, then back on to a grind up the hill.

The next descent was a bit sketchy, multiple lines to choose from but they all seemed to try and spit you out of the course, or worse down into the small burn as it narrowed taking you around a fast right-hand berm. Blast through a muddy sinkhole, then time to shoot down through the woods on a loose gravel path. At the end of the gravel, I dismount and slog up the muddy run-up. The encouragement never faltered from this marshalling point and spurs you on to the top of the deepening mud.

Get back on the peddles and swing around the condemned building in the park, and past the timing van. Time to suck in some much-needed air and not let the Stirling rider get too far ahead, as we ride down to the foot of the first climb up to the pit area.

Managed to keep on the guy’s wheel, then overtake as I passed my pit bike. A lousy line and some colourful language escaped from my mouth that shocks the English HTCC spectators as we battle through the mud. My wallowing in the mire allows him to sneak past once again. I am on his wheel for the remainder of the lap, Stirling rider receives great encouragement from his bike club as we both run the mud up to the tarmac.

I take the chance and overtake as we ride the first climb, I push on a bit harder and manage to gap him as we journey through the mud, I control my race line this time, which in turn controls my corrupt language. On the drop down I stick to the lumps to try to clear the mud on the grass decent.

I hike through the mucky runup, and as I pass the marshall and sporting a smug smile, I ask where his rider is now after gaining a bit of distance on the chasing Stirling rider. Just go to hope it doesn’t come back and bit me later on in the race. Go past the finish line for another lap and get shown the 9 laps to go. Whit!! Nine laps. I am not feeling so smug now.

I feel I can’t manage another 9 laps at the moment but settle in and time to take each lap as it comes. It’s a short course today, so it’s not long before the leaders come past. Then they do so another twice, so my nine-lap fear turned into seven laps slog. All in I complete ten laps within the hour.

I rolled over the line covered in mud and boogies in 24th position, which sounds good and gives my Statage ranking a tremendous boost, but it was only out 30 riders so when you say it like that it doesn’t seem that impressive.

Gary lapped me on the second last lap, he completed 11 laps while the winners have done 13. He rolls over the line in another impressive 17th place.

Plean you were a dream. Let’s see if I can make it the same for next week at Knockburn Loch and the Scottish Cyclocross Championships.

Thanks to Karly Millar, Falk Meier for the use of the images in the blog post.

1.10.2017 Callander Park, Falkirk.

Round 1 of the Lapierre Scottish Cyclocross Series.

Cyclocross is a drug that you can’t ride away from. The Cali Park Cartel know this and have taken full advantage of the cross dry up, a surge of riders needing their fix hit the admission button and numbers of 686-690-700+ were being mentioned as signing up to get the mud back into their veins.

The Godfathers of Cali Park (Davie & Franco) and the Cartel have been at work into the small hours to put on Season 6 of Cyclocross Narcos at Cali Park. They are only a small crew but they know how to deliver the product.

It’s my third Season, and there have been some changes made to the already fantastic course. The weather is going to be a major factor today. The rain machine has been on all morning and not letting up on the drive through from Glasgow. With my race last on the cards, things are going to be a bit muddy!

Sign on, and I slip the brown envelope I received from the Cartel into my inside pocket, wander over to watch a few of the V40 slip and slide around the course. Once the V40s have finished tearing up the course, and I have deflated my tyres by an immeasurable amount it’s time to get drug hit and have a practice lap.

2:30pm and it’s race time.

Roll past the new multicoloured bike starting grid, lots of new bike bling on display, find a spot behind the multicoloured Albannchians and settle in for a long race brief. Some of the V40 boys go past with a smug smile, knowing what we are in for.

The bang of the gun goes, and we’re away. Well, the front of the bunch is away, a few seconds later I push off to start my race. Not that long down the starting tarmac, I start to spin out of gear, losing a few places with my lack of top-end speed.

Tight right turn and onto the grass, now to try and catch those bikes with gears again. The pack is still very bunched together, so space is at a premium as we line up for the first uphill gradient and into the left turn. Go through the turn with everyone still riding their bikes. Downhill and turn right onto the mud fest as we ride parallel to the MyLaps timing van up on the grass verge. It’s super hard to keep a constant line, bike slips and slides as I try to keep the pedals turning. Manage to pass a few folk as I slog through the mud and try to stay upright. This is where the singlespeed comes in handy, you just have to power through it, no option for a granny gear to sit and spin. A 180° turn at the top, ride down the grand entrance driveway to Callander House. Though today its a mix of mud soup, potholes and puddles. Pass the timing van with Jammie rocking the mic.

The first new change in the course design came next. We used to ride up big tree hill, go around the tree, then shoot down and back along the flat. This time we went around the tree hill by a very narrow and mushy back path, into some tight switchbacks under the pine trees. Shootout from the under the canopy and back onto familiar racing lines. Things were still tight in the bunch, I took to running these bends and got a face full of foliage for my troubles as the rider in front let it spring back, to be fair I think I did the same as I heard a yep as I cleared the leaves from my eyes.

Ride uphill on the soft grass to do a 180° turn around another tree, took this at speed as it helped with momentum to reach the top. I also took a few scalps as I went. They were soon lost as we dismounted and ran the steps. Back on the bike and trying to find some grip to keep me in touch with the mid-pack racers. This part of the park was probably the least saturated with the rain. I think the tree canopy and the hills helped drain the water away, giving my legs a slight break from all the heavy pedal strokes.

My first off of the day comes as I line up for muddy hill section. I did manage to ride it in practice, so being a smart arse, I try again. A rider in front of me comes to a halt halfway up, a rear wheel slip and he was off his bike, which in turn makes me reroute my line, my back wheel doesn’t grip, and I was off and into a tangled mess. Right myself and get running to the woods, a quick remount, ride the ruts and roots then get ready to point the bike downwards, into my second off of the day.

This one was my own fault, I grab my brakes and the rear locks up, sending me into a slide. The bike soon spits me off and into a beautiful 360° pirouette on my right arse cheek. Luckily my bike follows me down, its back on the steed and dodge the kerbs, later on, these will take some riders and their bikes out of the race.

Follow the thinning pack as we head over to another slight change in the course design. I see a lot of riders dismount and start to run the new feature. Being a smart arse again I keep riding, as I hit the treeline my front wheel slips, and I’m on my knees, my third off in one lap, jeezuz! Pick the bike up and tiptoe around the mud pack at the base of the tree. Back in the saddle and slog up and over the crest of the hill, taking me under the branches of the trees and into slippy hell once again. I dismount and run downhill past the growing crowd that cheered if you rode the downhill left-hander and cheered even louder if you hit the deck.

Next to tackle was the practically vertical climb, this took you to the top of the downhill switchbacks. My best option now is to run the hill as there wasn’t chance in hell I would manage to ride the whole lot. Ride the switchbacks without any incident, for the first time in ages. Ride past the pits, then onto the grass where we all kicked off about 7 minutes ago for the lead riders, probably about 10-11 minutes for my slow pace. I remember looking at my watch just after running the steps. Fifteen minutes in I shows. I am still mid-pack but slowing down considerably. My lack of bike riding is taking its toll.

Still plodding around the course, I haven’t fallen again and seem to have got to grips with the course, going well on the grassy uphill sections, some decent speed and grip are helping me to pull riders back. I’m loosing too much time on the vertical hill and the long drag up the grass verge of the driveway. Past by the timing van, I see four laps remaining. Yaaaas as that means three for me, I am sure the lead rider will go past me again which he does. I know I can finish this race now, as long as my bike holds up in the mud.

I have a spare bike in the pit area, but the thought of cleaning two bikes covered in this sticky mud is a huge put-off.

Where I can, I stop to remove the mud build up. Lose more time by doing this, but It hopefully means the bike won’t break. A small battle between me and two other riders is on. They pull away on the flatter parts, but I manage to claw them back on the hills, only for them to get in front and make me chase again.

The two other riders and I swap places all the way into the last lap, where I eventually can’t keep up on the vertical climb, they soon spin-off into the dirty distance and I’m left walking to the top. Now to ride the grass hill past the rowdy HTCC crew for the last time and slog up the drive. I look over my shoulder and see a pack of riders coming, they could be lapping me, but the race brain engages, muster some energy to head for a very dirty finishing line without any of them catching me.

I’m finished. Covered head to toe in mud, mud in my teeth and my bike has put on about 10kg in weight. I am knackered, but I still have a stupid grin spanning my entire face. The drug of the mud has taken over and I’m hooked once again.

Huge thanks to The Godfathers of Cali Franco Porco and Davie Lines and their small band of Cartel members. You have put on another superb race course.

Cali Cartel you certainly know how to dish out the Cyclocross drugs.

Thanks to George Stewart, Karly Millar and Pam La’Craig for use of the excellent images.